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in this place, no meaning exists
by Jared Fladelandthis poem is devoid of emotion.
now this is art.
constellation nothingness dripping
like fungi from the tongues
of a lifeless orator.
blip. blip. blop. blip. blip blip blop.
listen to the rain drops
smashing against an upside down bucket.
this is the fantasia
which strikes my chord:
a fancy merry lad in silver plaid attire
dancing the conquistador waltz
burning Rome like firecrackers. 11/26/2006 Posted on 11/27/2006
Copyright © 2024 Jared Fladeland
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 11/27/06 at 05:12 AM I really, really like this, man. It's got a hell of a style going for it. |
| Posted by Katerina T Nix on 11/29/06 at 02:17 AM I really like this piece, Jared. Loved the imagery and the way each line just flows so well. Well done ;) -Kat |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/29/06 at 02:52 AM Adds wonderful new meaning to "rage against the machine." Excellent upsate also for that old Disney word, "fantasia." |
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